


Jumping to Conclusions

by nightwalker



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 03:11:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16735983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwalker/pseuds/nightwalker
Summary: He feels like a traitor as he takes to the rooftops. He’s never actually promised Foggy that he wouldn’t follow him around as a vigilante and spy on his private business, but he’s painfully aware that that is a promise most people would expect to be implicit.





	Jumping to Conclusions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohmyloki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyloki/gifts).



> Inspired by bootycap's post on Tumblr

Foggy has been disappearing a couple of nights a week, never really _lying_ about where he’s going, but definitely avoiding the truth when Matt asks him about it. Every week it gets harder and harder to listen to Foggy try not to lie to him, so he stops asking one day and the rush of pure relief Foggy gives off makes Matt’s throat tight and his chest ache.

He doesn’t have the ground to stand on to call Foggy out on it, doesn’t have the right to demand anything like a full disclosure. They promised no more secrets and no more lies and it’s not exactly the first and Foggy is very, very carefully making sure it isn’t the latter.

None of that stops the way Matt’s heart pounds every time Foggy leaves and very deliberately doesn’t tell Matt where or why.

It’s nearly two months of this before Matt cracks. Because Foggy comes home one night with someone else’s scent on his skin, someone else’s lotion and cologne on his shirt and Matt has to know, he can’t -

He can’t. He’s lost just about everyone he’s ever loved and he _can’t_. Not Foggy. Not like this.

He feels like a traitor as he takes to the rooftops. He’s never actually promised Foggy that he wouldn’t follow him around as a vigilante and spy on his private business, but he’s painfully aware that that is a promise most people would expect to be implicit. 

But he has to know. If they’re that broken, if Foggy is that unhappy - he hasn’t left yet. There’s time to _fix_ this. Matt can fix this as long as he can convince Foggy to stay.

He stops on top of a Starbucks while Foggy waits at the crosswalk below and crouches down, balanced on the balls of his feet with his head between his knees while he makes himself breathe. His head in ringing and all he can hear is his own thoughts pounding against the inside of his skull. _Not again, not again, don’t leave again._

The light changes and Foggy starts walking away. Matt drags in a lungful of cool city air and follows him.

He hasn’t let himself think about what he was expecting to find, but it isn’t the Red Cross building on West 49th.

It’s almost eight at night but there’s a handful of people gathered outside the door, most of them young, around college age. Foggy waves to them, calls out a cheerful greeting that the crowd returns.

“What’s it going to be tonight?” one of the men calls out. He sounds like a young guy, maybe twenty, and Matt can smell tobacco and curry on him. “Stabbed with a ninja sword? Both shoulders dislocated after being captured by a supervillain puppeteer? Electrocuted by a living lightning bolt?”

Matt perches on the edge of the roof and skims over everyone in the crowd, reviewing heartbeats for ill intent and checking for the scent of gunpowder out of habit. _Living lightning bolts? Foggy what are you doing?_

It’s becoming obvious that whatever fear Matt had harbored about Foggy’s absences, they were slightly off base. Well. Unless this is some sort of Red Cross sponsored orgy. 

Foggy is laughing as he pulls open the door and holds it for them. “You made that last one up.”

One of the women laughs as she walks by. “The fact that the first two are real is probably cause for concern.” 

The first guy sounds amused when he speaks again. “Seriously, Mister N, where do you come up with these crazy examples?”

“I keep telling you guys to call me Foggy. This “Mister N” stuff makes me feel old.”

One of the girls giggles and the guy who smells like curry points his finger at Foggy. “I didn’t say it.”

“Insolent,” Foggy says in a loud voice. “Insolent and uncalled for.”

“Seriously, though, where do you come up with this stuff?” A girl speaks up this time, young enough that Matt’s a little surprised she’s out here on a school night. She’s wearing earrings that jingle ever-so-slightly as she moves. “Some of your examples are crazy weird, but some of them are kind of awful, too. They aren’t stuff you’ve actually seen are they?”

Foggy’s heartbeat trips over itself a little, then settles, albeit slightly elevated from before. His breath comes a little sharp on the next inhale, then he exhales and shakes his head. “Some of them, yeah. I have a friend. He gets hurt a lot. He’s a bit of a daredevil, you know? Always trying something new. Parkour and - basejumping?” There’s a bit of an upward tilt to the word, like even Foggy isn’t sure why he said it. “Anyway, he’s convinced that nothing short of an actual decapitation is worth going to the hospital, so I just…” Foggy trails off a little. “I dunno. It makes me feel a little better to think I might be able to help the next time he gets hurt.”

“Your friend needs a new hobby,” the same guy says and Foggy says “ _I know,_ ” in a tone of intense agreement.

The door swings shut behind them and Matt closes his eyes and swallows, hard, as he listens to the instructor start the first aid class.

****

It’s emergency first aid. Meant for people who are exposed to violent crime. The guy with the curry on his breath works at a youth crisis center and from what Matt’s been able to pick up the young girl’s sister is in an abusive relationship. Some of them are taking the class for credit, some just for the knowledge. And there’s Foggy, trying to keep his daredevil friend in one piece.

And there’s Matt, lurking on rooftops.

He books it back to the apartment, strips out of the costume and throws on the first clothes he finds. He has no idea how long the class lasts and he’d already spent half an hour lingering on the roof, listening in. He flags down a cab for the return trip, and he plants himself just outside the Red Cross building by nine o’clock, when the class lets out. The first few people pass him without more than a glance, but Matt can tell the exact moment Foggy spots him.

“Matt?”

Matt clutches the top of his cane. “Yeah. Sorry.”

There’s a long moment where he isn’t sure what to expect. Some of Foggy’s classmates are checking them out, sensing the tension, one or two lingering, the rest making themselves scarce. 

Then Foggy sighs, heavy and loud. “I probably should have seen this coming.”

“I’m sorry,” Matt says again. “I just - you kept leaving and you wouldn’t tell me where you were going and - and last week you smelled like someone’s perfume and-” He doesn’t care about the kids surreptitiously watching them. “I couldn’t lose you again. I had to know, so I could fix whatever it was.”

“Moron,” Foggy says. He takes a few steps closer and slides his arm through one of Matt’s holding it close against his side. Matt can feel his body heat, smell his shampoo and the lingering scent of coffee. “Matty. I gave Jasmine a hug last week because she was upset about her sister. That’s it. I’m not sneaking off to some clandestine affair at the Red Cross.”

“I kind of figured that out.”

“I’m cutting you some slack here because I was hiding something from you, even though it was with the best of intentions.” Foggy tugs on Matt’s arm, pulls him a little tighter against his side. “Otherwise this whole following me around thing would be a _hell_ of a fight.” He sighs. “I cannot believe you thought I was cheating on you.”

“It’s been a rough couple of years,” Matt says. “And… I know you aren’t thrilled about… being in a relationship with a parkouring, base-jumping, lower-case D daredevil.”

“Hey,” Foggy says, and his voice is softer than it was a minute ago. “Hey, I am absolutely thrilled about it because that base-jumping jackass is _you_. Okay? Watching you get hurt is hard, but the alternative is not being with you and that sucked a whole lot, so. I thought the class might help me deal a little better the next time you got hurt. That maybe I could help you this way.”

“You help,” Matt says. “ _Foggy._ ” He turns his head just enough to brush his lips over Foggy’s cheekbone. “You help so much. Just being you. Being here. With me. When you were gone-” He can’t finish it, doesn’t know what to say. He’d thought he could do it and he knew better now. “You help. You’ve always helped.”

He can hear the way Foggy’s heart thumps hard in his chest, the sudden deep breath he takes. “You might have said.”

“Well, I’m saying.” Matt presses a second kiss against Foggy’s cheek. “Wanna come home and show me everything you’ve learned?”

“You’re not hurt,” Foggy says. “Wait, are you hurt? Matt, I’ve been gone barely an _hour_ -”

“I’m not hurt.” Matt grins. “Come on, let’s go play doctor.”


End file.
